


Butt Dial

by w_x_2



Series: Calling Derek [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Cussing, Masturbation, Merry Month of Masturbation Challenge, Other, Porn Watching, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-10
Updated: 2014-05-10
Packaged: 2018-01-24 06:19:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1594721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/w_x_2/pseuds/w_x_2
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles decides to have a wank right before class. Something's bound to go wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Butt Dial

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Not my characters, no harm intended, no profit made.  
> A/N: For the 10th day of [mmom](http://mmom.livejournal.com/) 2014\. In previous years the most days I have posted for in mmom is 9 days last year. So technically, a record! :D

“Oh Gosh, yesss,” Stiles moans with his hand wrapped around his cock, imitating the rhythm of the guy that is getting pounded and also stroking himself in the porn movie that Stiles is watching.

 

It doesn't take much longer.

 

When Stiles has time he keeps himself going so he can find his release at the same time as at least one of the _actors_.

 

But today it's not gonna happen because Stiles needs to get to class, and he doesn't have the time to wait that much longer.

 

So when he feels himself on the edge, he doesn't back down from it like he usually would, instead he tumbles right over it. When he comes Stiles does so on the nicely placed tissues in order to avoid any mess and as such further time delay for cleaning which is valuable time for Stiles to just have a few moments to enjoy his post orgasm before he gets a move on.

 

Stiles gets up, pulls at the back of his trousers where they have ridden a bit down from his movements, tucks himself back in, and does up the zip and button of his trousers.

 

He hasn't paused the porn yet, wonders how many more minutes he can get away with watching it because the guys on there are super duper hot. And they have just changed into a new position, one which requires a lot of flexibility from both parties which makes Stiles wonder if he could do that. But not the point, the point is the position puts all the best angles in place.

 

Anyways, Stiles tries to search for his phone without taking his eyes away from the screen by feeling the desk by the side of his laptop with his hands, but comes up empty. Stiles swipes a cursory look over his desk but still no joy and looks back at the screen just in time to see the top orgasm, right onto the bottom's spread hole.

 

There's moans and it's a massive load, some of it shoots inside the loose hole and the rest around the rim. Stiles laments having already come because he could probably have delayed his orgasm for long enough to come with him. When the top's done, he uses his finger to gather his come together right on the edge of the bottom's rim before he uses his cock to push his come inside the bottom.

 

Stiles moans along with both of the two very hot dudes on his screen and his cock twitches in response.

 

“Down boy,” Stiles says with a hand over his cock although the top is right back inside the bottom, pounding into him, hard, so fucking hard and making the bottom moan so beautifully even as the top grunts in sensitivity with every thrust.

 

Stiles has the brilliant idea to move his hand over his front pockets in search of his phone but still comes up short. He keeps watching as he moves his hands to his back pockets and eventually finds his phone.

 

He brings his phone up above his face and tilts his face up towards it, keeping his line of sight free so that he can remain looking at the screen where the porn is happening but his phone can recognize his face and unlock itself with a beep at the same time.

 

Stiles brings down the phone, by his side, in his range of vision if only he actually decided to focus on it. He's ignoring it at the moment though, hoping he can delay the clocks and won't be late for class if he just doesn't look at the time.

 

They change positions again so that the bottom is now on his knees with his face in the pillow, which is somewhat frowned upon in porn because people want to see his expressions and hear his moans but it's okay, because the top is ramming into him even harder now and must be hitting his prostate so precisely that the pillow is nowhere near enough to swallow the bottom's loud pleasure by the the way of whines and moans.

 

They need to finish, and it needs to be soon because otherwise Stiles is gonna get another boner, his cock is pretty interested already, and if he becomes fully hard there's not even gonna be any point in Stiles trying to get into class.

 

Stiles reluctantly drags his eyes away from the amazing porn on his laptop screen to his phone and immediately panics.

 

He can feel cool dread building in the pit of his stomach and _oh my fucking fuck_.

 

“Derek?” Stiles meekly asks.

 

It's not the home screen with his massive batman clock that is up on the screen, oh no, of course not. It's a call screen, to Derek of all people.

 

Stiles is dreading an answer, and is actually quite relieved when one doesn't come forth, although it shouldn't be much of a surprise because on closer inspection the call hasn't been answered, it's gone to voicemail.

 

Stiles' finger automatically goes to the end call button, and then he sees exactly how long he's been on the call. 13.02 minutes. What the holy fuck, who has that much voicemail space?

 

“Oh shit,” Stiles swears aloud, barely stops himself from saying anything else because the voice message is _still_ bloody recording.

 

Stiles thinks hard, honestly tries to scour his mind on how to make this go away.

 

If he presses the end call button it's going to automatically save the voice message into Derek's phone. He can't wait for Derek to run out of space so that Stiles gets the option to delete the voice mail because he doesn't know how long it will take and looking closely at the top right corner of his phone where the time is located in a small print he sees that he only has four minutes to get out and make his way to class.

 

Ok, so that's good, he still has time. He'd thought he was late.

 

There's a loud moan from the screen and Stiles haphazardly closes his laptop because: so not the time anymore! It cuts off the sound as his computer goes into sleep mode and Stiles focuses back on the problem at hand.

 

Google it is.

 

He's able to open up on an internet page with the call still going in the background, gets to google, and searches 'how to delete your voice message without sending it'.

 

The third result looks promising so he clicks it, but it's just a bunch of crap so the back button it is. Except it isn't, because the phone decides to open up a pop-up, one of those that is literally impossible to stop without shutting it down manually in the active applications.

 

And Stiles laments not having used the internet on his laptop. He does not freaking have the time for this shit.

 

He exhales loudly, annoyed, and is in the process of trying to shut down his active applications when of-fucking-course the phone blocks.

 

“Bastard,” Stiles cusses at his phone although it hurts him more that the phone won't be hurt by it.

 

Stiles' eyes widen in frustration and he wants to throw his phone against something hard, but he places it on top of his closed laptop, quickly runs off to wash his hands in the bathroom attached to his bedroom and then gathers his books into his bag, packed ready to go. He prays that the phone is back to normal as he picks it up once more.

 

“You beaut,” Stiles praises when he sees that his phone is responsive. The call is still there, which although it means Stiles still has _that_ problem, at least the voicemail hadn't gone to Derek and he still has the chance to delete it. He plugs his headphones into his laptop, so that when he opens the laptop lid and turns the laptop back on to search for a solution, the moans won't be so loud.

 

Derek is a werewolf, he's gonna hear regardless, but maybe it'll be low enough he won't pay attention to them if this goes wrong and Derek actually gets the voicemail.

 

Although by that point he would have heard Stiles wank. Oh God. Stiles wouldn't mind digging an actual grave for himself, he just needs to ask somebody to cover him up.

 

The face recognition doesn't work, but that's ok because Stiles can put in the backup pin. He's not done it in a while, the phone usually recognizes his face, so he isn't surprised when the phone tells him the pin is wrong.

 

He tries it again, and it thankfully unlocks. Small victory, although certainly big enough to be celebrated with a fist pump in the air.

 

The celebration is short lived though, because as soon as Stiles tries to get back to the call still in the background, the phone goes black. As in dead.

 

The phone has decided to restart itself.

 

A voice message of Stiles wanking for 13 minutes, plus fumbling about trying to delete his voicemail while moans emerged from his laptop has just gone to Derek.

 

“Oh my fuck, oh my fuck,” Stiles gasps as he stares at his phone restarting. “What do I do, what do I do. Oh. My. God!” Stiles blabbers. His phone unlocks, recognizing his face this time and Stiles calls Derek in an impulsive move.

 

The phone rings, and rings and rings, and _fuck off_ voicemail! He tries again. “Answer the phone Derek, why aren't you answering the phone?? Answer the phone. Answer the phone,” Stiles chants. “Answer the _damn_ phone Derek, damnit.” Stiles turns it off before the beep of the voicemail, and desperately tries again.

 

Finally Stiles realizes if he doesn't get a move on he's gonna be epically late for class, a few more minutes and he won't be allowed in so he gets a move on. He calls Derek all the way out from his room, through campus and down the corridor to his lecture room. Again and again. But nothing. No answer.

 

“Fuck sakes Derek.”

 

There's still a few late stragglers walking into the lecture room so he runs up to them so that he can fall in line with them and still get in.

 

He sits down, makes sure his phone is on silent and places it under the desk so he can text Derek.

 

_DO NOT listen to the voicemail I sent you. Everything is fine. I'll explain later._

 

The 'fine' he adds because Derek is a worrier and when he sees just exactly how many times Stiles called him, he's gonna be worried, and without the assurance that Stiles is fine he's gonna listen to the voicemail despite the request. The 'explain later' is to appease him, although Stiles is in no way planning to _actually_ explain.

 

Stiles keeps a very careful eye on his phone during the class for any signs of Derek, but doesn't answer the phone when Derek calls him mid class. He's not exactly feeling like getting kicked out.

 

But the reason he's been keeping an eye on it is because he knows that if Derek can't get a hold of Stiles he will get the feeling that Stiles is in fact not fine, and he'll also listen to the voicemail.

 

He texts Derek saying he can't answer because he's in class. Assures Derek that he is indeed Stiles and he _is_ fine, and then pretty much begs Derek to not listen to the voicemail.

 

* * *

 

 

“Stiles,” Derek huffs when Stiles drops by Derek's at the end of class in his 45 minutes lunch break because of course Derek is not gonna wait long enough for Stiles to have his two afternoon classes.

 

And besides, Derek cooked.

 

“Right here, sourwolf,” Stiles says as he lets himself in with the key that Derek had given him.

 

“Why didn't you answer the phone?” Derek demands as he pokes his head out of the kitchen.

 

“I was in class.”

 

“You could have whispered, I would have heard you. Werewolf, remember?”

 

“Can't forget it,” Stiles replies. “But I wouldn't have heard you so I would just be talking to myself and I already embarrass myself enough without anyone else's help.”

 

“What's in the voicemail?” Derek demands as he follows Stiles back inside the kitchen when Stiles walks past him.

 

“Did you listen to it?” Stiles asks.

 

“Were you having sex?”

 

“Oh my God,” Stiles protests. “You listened!” Stiles accuses. “And no, I was _not_ having sex.”

 

And Derek honest to God looks hurt. Usually he looks like he wants to chew Stiles' head off when Stiles makes him feel like that, but this time he just looks like he's been kicked down.

 

“Wow,” Derek whistles sarcastically. “You've become a really good liar,” Derek observes.

 

“I am not lying!” Stiles doesn't let Derek continue before he says, “And don't you try to make me say it out loud. I asked you not to listen so I think you got enough material to make fun of me already.”

 

“You heart beat stayed the same, but your cheeks coloured bright red. You almost successfully lied,” Derek observes.

 

“I did not lie for goodness sakes. I was not having sex in the sense that you mean,” Stiles defends. “There was no one else there besides me. Me. Wanking. Tossing off. Polishing my joystick.”

 

Derek suddenly chuckles, hurt expression gone from his face when he realized Stiles hadn't actually lied, and it clicks in Stiles' brain how his mouth talked without his permission.

 

“Oh my god.” Stiles closes his eyes. “Why did I just tell you that? Shit.” Stiles opens his eyes and looks accusingly at Derek. “Why did you make me tell you,” Stiles demands but doesn't wait for an answer. “You were not meant to find out that I butt dialed you while wanking. That's why I told you not to listen to the voicemail. So why did you just make me tell you!” Stiles protests. “You are a horrible person sourwolf.” Stiles turns up his nose at Derek's continued chuckling. “Just like... You know how you pressed delete on the voicemail, can you do the same in your mind? Please?” Stiles pleads.

 

Derek's chuckling has turned into full laughter and he doesn't answer Stiles.

 

“Very funny sourwolf, just go on, get it all out of your system now 'cos I'm not gonna take it silently later on. Free pass for 35 more minutes only,” Stiles warns because he knows plenty embarrassing stuff about Derek too.

 


End file.
